Second Quadrant
Cairo-3998 aka Planet Challenger
Daring City - Outskirts
Figaro took a step back and tried to get an overview of what was happening. Because it definitely could not be what appeared to be happening.
There were thirty of them but they were struggling to stay on their feet. They got halfway up and then stumbled around like newborn calves before falling down again.
Their helmets were down, so it was not possible to see their faces. Figaro would have liked to have seen their eyes, to see if they were truly being controlled by Boss Glosso.
These thirty men — trained mercenaries and city guards — had been knocked out by Ubik a moment ago. They had been flat on their backs.
That in itself had come as a surprise. Ubik had used some sort of device given to him by the Antecessors, which raised a host of other questions, but being able to knock out so many people at once wasn’t the thing that had Figaro flummoxed.
What was completely beyond expectation was that Boss Glosso had revealed his organic ability, and it seemed to be a form of mass mind control.
Not just one or two people, and not some suggestion or coercion. This was full-on mind and body control, turning human beings into puppets. Thirty of them. At the same time.
The bone arm in Figaro’s grip tipped forward, glistening with a barely perceptible pink hue. The four-fingered hand that had been pointing up and away all this time, now pointed directly at the crowd. Or possibly through the crowd. Towards Boss Glosso.
There was something happening here, and even though the thirty men weren’t posing an immediate threat, they were preventing them from leaving. Boss Glosso had a reason for keeping them here and Figaro was of the opinion that they should find a way out before they discovered what that reason was.
Mind control was one of the most controversial and restricted of all organics.
There had been numerous attempts to use mind control throughout history, and it never ended well.
Nobody trusted a mind controller, and those who had obtained the ability kept it a secret. No one boasted about it. No one paraded it in public.
Even those organisations that found it useful to have an exponent working for them, kept a very close eye on them. They were generally treated with the same disdain and suspicions as a traitor.
Someone capable of betraying one master was capable of doing it again.
And someone capable of dominating the mind of your enemy was capable of dominating your mind.
Why work for someone when you could make them work for you?
And once you became tricked into thinking your choices were your own, how could you ever break free?
A slave who believed wholeheartedly that they wanted to be a slave was happy to serve and would never even contemplate being free again.
A person who could control others against their will was far too dangerous to leave alive, no matter how useful they might be.
But even Boss Glosso revealing himself to be a mind controller wasn’t the most shocking thing here.
What was utterly stupefying was that he was somehow controlling thirty men at the same time. And these men didn’t appear to be conscious, thanks to Ubik, so he was having to manage all their basic cerebral cortex functions.
There was a big difference between convincing someone to do something as though it was their own choice, and making them do it by brute force like a soulless puppet.
That kind of power was unheard of.
Someone like Chukka, who had a similar but far weaker version of this ability, was what was more common. She had to slowly insert a series of suggestions over time, having to be careful not to reveal what she was doing, creating a complex mosaic that could collapse at any moment. And she could do that to maybe one or two people at most.
Boss Glosso was controlling thirty people in real-time.
Not only was it unprecedented, if he was really doing it then that made him one of the most powerful organics in the galaxy. So what was he doing on this tiny planetoid in the middle of nowhere?
“How is he controlling them?” said PT, backing up alongside Figaro.
Boss Glosso was at the rear of the group, too short to be seen clearly.
The mercenaries and guards were all up on their feet and lurched towards them. At least his control was limited to this.
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“I think it’s mind control,” said Figaro.
“He’s controlling all of them?” said PT. “By himself?”
“Looks like it,” said Ubik, stepping forward and leaning in to get a better look at the very slowly advancing horde. “Impressive stuff. I think they’re all unconscious. He’s got his own zombie army. Wish I had one.” He looked at Figaro and PT in a way that made Figaro feel uncomfortable. “If I’d known he was this strong I would have brought more of those glitter bombs.”
“What were those things?” said PT, his concern over the slow surge ambling towards them changing into a much greater concern about Ubik using weapons they had no idea were in his possession. “Where did they come from?”
“The Antecessors gave them to me,” said Ubik.
“Why didn’t they give us any, then?” said PT.
“Did you ask?” said Ubik.
“Um, guys, can we discuss this later,” said Figaro. The men approaching them were gradually becoming less shambolic. They were standing straighter and their movements were becoming more fluid.
The three of them stood side by side, looking for the best way to defeat this zombie horde. Taking them out now would probably be best, before their movements became coordinated enough to pose a threat.
“He’s using an organic, right?” said PT. “Can’t you just suppress it?”
“Yes. Okay. I just need to get a bit closer.” Figaro moved to the side. “If you can keep them busy for a bit.”
“Don’t worry,” said PT. “I’m sure Ubik has a way to keep them focused on him.”
“Me? Why do I have to do it?”
“Because you enjoy the attention,” said PT. “Think of them as your audience.”
“Sometimes, I feel like you don’t really understand me, PT. I’m not just some attention whore. What you see as me running around like a maniac is me expressing myself. It is my art.”
Ubik ran up to the lead zombie and kicked him in the crotch, which had no effect whatsoever.
An arm slowly swung at Ubik, who ducked it easily.
“They’re all wearing suits full of tronics,” said PT. “Just make them all fall down with a wave of your hand.”
“I’m not a magician,” said Ubik. “The bomb disrupted the electrical energy in their bodies and in their suits. All their tronics got knocked out. I can’t knock them out again.”
He jumped up and planted a foot in another man’s chest, kicking off him into a backflip. This had no effect, either. The horde kept coming forward.
Ubik landed on his feet, his arms spread out like he was waiting for applause.
“Stop showboating and do something,” shouted PT.
Figaro moved to the side and worked his way around the group towards Boss Glosso. The ground was uneven and rocky. Figaro climbed up a slight incline to get a better view. He was still a fair way from Boss Glosso, but at least now he had a clear line of sight.
The diminutive figure was standing on a slightly raised mound, his eyes glowing white, which indicated he really was using an organic, and keeping his focus on the small army he was currently in control of.
Figaro activated his organic. He felt the familiar buzz rise up his neck and into his face, and the heat in his eyes.
Nothing happened.
Boss Gloss continued to march his men forward, his eyes still glowing.
Figaro got a little closer, moving while crouched, hoping not to be seen, and tried again.
Still nothing.
Figaro’s suppression ability had always worked in the past. It didn’t even require targeting. If there was an active organic in the vicinity, it would become inactive.
Was Boss Glosso really this powerful?
Figaro decided to take a more direct approach. He ran towards Boss Glosso, circling around to approach from the rear.
He got within a couple of metres of him before he came to a sudden stop. There was a wall in front of him. He couldn’t see it, but he could feel it.
The bone hand was pointing directly at Boss Glosso. There was no doubt it considered him to be something special.
There was a shout from the other side and a sudden commotion inside the crowd of men. Ubik and PT broke through the ranks, heading for Boss Glosso. They had apparently also decided on a more direct approach.
They also became aware of the force field surrounding him, and came to a skidding halt, but then Ubik slammed into the back of PT, shouting, “Elfidium, use your organic.”
PT was thrown forward, arms stretched out in front of him. He made contact with the invisible wall. There was a loud crack and the smell of ozone in the air, and he was thrown back, high into the air.
“Ah, sorry, not elfidium,” Ubik called after him. “My bad.”
PT landed in the middle of the zombies, who had just about turned around when PT cannonballed into them. They swarmed into a pile around him.
“Loves being in the thick of it, doesn’t he?” said Ubik, shaking his head as PT screamed for help. “Hey Fig, what’re you doing over there? You’re supposed to be taking care of our puppet master.”
“I can’t,” said Figaro. “It doesn’t work on him.”
“No? That’s strange.” Ubik cupped his hands around his mouth. “Hey, Boss Glosso, how are you doing this? What’s your secret?”
Boss Glosso, who hadn’t reacted to their presence so far, slowly turned his head to look at Ubik. His eyes were solid white light.
“You will not leave here alive.” His lips barely moved but his voice reverberated around them. He turned his head a little more to look at Figaro. “The relic, give it to me.”
The bone arm jerked forward, like it was trying to escape Figaro’s grasp.
“Feels like we’re missing something,” said Ubik. “How’s he doing this? And how did he get those guys out of the Dungeon?”
“Get away from me,” shouted PT. He was surrounded but had managed to get a helmet off one of the men and was swinging it around wildly.
The man who had lost his helmet was the tall man who had been so eager to fight PT, but his face was grey and his eyes had no life in them.
“Maybe we should just leave,” said Ubik.
“He knows who we are,” said Figaro. “He’ll lead them to us.”
“True,” said Ubik. “Okay, maybe we just need to incapacitate his men. He won’t be much of a threat on his own, right?”
PT was now running back and forth, dodging grasping hands.
“Hit them in the face,” shouted Ubik. “Don’t worry, he can’t activate their organics. He’d have to be able to control their whole central nervous system to do that.”
The tall man stopped and stood straighter, as did all those around him. His eyes began to glow.
“Oh, thanks, Ubik. Well done,” shouted PT. He came running back towards them.
He ran straight to Figaro and took the bone arm from him.
“What are you going to do with that?” asked Figaro.
“Provide motivation,” said PT. He thrust the arm into Ubik’s hands and then shoved Ubik into the crowd descending on them.